


aere perennius

by ninata



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Trespasser Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:38:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninata/pseuds/ninata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian and the Inquisitor Adaar spend some time together after the Exalted Council.</p>
            </blockquote>





	aere perennius

“I’ve thought I was going to lose you far too many times to be comfortable with.”

Dorian’s words were simple, impersonal as they always seemed. The Inquisitor lifted his head, the sheet covering him in disarray. Dorian sat on the side of the bed, pensive.

Abel pushed himself upright with his hand. He looked on at him, the strong frame of a man with the most incredible fragility.

“You ought to be ashamed!” Dorian continued. “Getting yourself in trouble all the time.”

“Another nightmare?”

For the thousandth time, Dorian’s clever words had been seen right through. Despite everything, despite knowing there’s no point in glazing over the truth with Abel, transparency is difficult; honesty is difficult. When you had to lie for so long...when you had to build up someone who wasn’t you just to live...well, Dorian’s life hadn’t exactly been easy. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to speak directly about these things no matter how much he wished he could.

“I simply-- I wonder, you know. It’s quite lucky you’d managed to earn the great Dread Wolf’s respect! Imagine if you hadn’t.”

It’d been days since the end of the Exalted Council. The two had decided to spend a few precious moments together before Dorian’s return to Tevinter.

The clean cut where Abel’s forearm once lay was a bit...unnerving. No scar, just sealed flesh, as if it had never existed. The anchor was gone, and the Inquisitor’s life was once again safe; for the time being. You know, until another magical curse was laid upon him, and an army of Maker-knows-what was knocking on his door to attempt at bringing the stubborn oxman down yet again. Whatever could be more exciting than the Ben-Hassrath? Or demons? Or, maybe, darkspawn? Or even ancient elves? Venatori? Perhaps a new enemy would be created solely to make Abel’s life more interesting.

“Well, I did.” Abel said, settling next to him, their thighs brushing. “I’m sorry I made you worry, Dorian.”

“I meant it, what I said back there. I always knew you’d...” He choked on his words, making a brave attempt to stop his trembling. Pitiful, if he could describe it in a word; the way he always felt, tiptoeing around his fears. The way he tended to feel around Abel. “I know you’ll break my heart.”

Abel’s hand was placed carefully on Dorian’s shoulder. A hand blistered from magic barely learned, never taught properly like they would in Tevinter. A hand that held so many lives in its palm; or palms, at a time. Dorian didn’t know when he grew to love those hands, when the hulking brute with the uneven horns and hilariously innocent face became the dearest thing he’d ever had.

“These good things don’t last. They never did, and they never will. There’s always some catch, isn’t there? The hero always dies in the midst of battle, a martyr for their cause. Oh, I know you’d be a martyr as soon as the opportunity was given! That seems to be your sort of thing. You’ll go running away from me at the closest opportunity!”

Abel was always kind to his Inquisition, playing Wicked Grace with everyone. Laughing with them, making jokes, but reliable in times of need. Helping whom he could. Those kinds of people don’t last long in this world, and Dorian knew that. Dorian knew that people who were at the center of such grand things were doomed. But of course he’d fall for him! Of course Dorian would love him, of course the one man who showed him that it wasn’t wrong to be who he was would leave him in the end!

It wasn’t fair. How many near-death experiences would it take before Abel Adaar would finally lose his life? Would Dorian eventually grow used to it, and be unprepared when the inevitable happened? Should he simply expect the man to die every time he went outside? It plagued his dreams, and had for a long time. The Fade only brought him what he feared the most.

“I don’t think I’d get too far. I’d get lonely pretty quickly.” Abel mused. Dorian wanted to laugh, but it’d taken all he had to say things so lightly. He put his face in his hands, but at that movement, Abel pulled the two of them closer.“I...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you’ve had to worry like this. For what it’s worth, the Anchor’s gone, and I don’t think I’ll be fighting some great evil any time soon, unless you count Solas. I don’t intend on dying, not even if he makes it his mission to get rid of me.”

“You _say_ that.” Dorian leaned onto Abel’s chest, hands dropping to his lap. “But it’ll happen. You’ll leave me.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“And if you can’t?”

“You can use magic to bring me back. If time travel’s possible, I’m sure you’ll make some incredible discovery in necromancy that’ll actually bring the dead back to life.”

This time Dorian managed to chuckle. His arm hooked behind the larger man’s back, sliding into its usual place low on his waist.

“You deserve this, you know.”

And then he was caught off guard. Dorian turned his head up, brow furrowing a bit.

“Maybe I won’t leave. Maybe you’ll be stuck with me forever, and you’ll have to deal with being happy.” Abel’s voice was softer than the pillows they’d slept on, and a hand trailed up to brush a thumb over Dorian’s cheek. He gave a smile full of fondness, full of what Dorian could only have hoped to see. “You’ve suffered enough, don’t you think? Bad things don’t always have to keep happening.”

It’s painful. It’s so painful to be close to what you’ve always wanted, but too afraid to take it for yourself. Dorian would never admit he was afraid. Dorian would never admit he was afraid of Abel, of his love, of letting his guard down. He had hurt for so long, and this bastard had come into his life to complicate things and make those silly dreams he’d had come true.

When all he’d ever known was scorn, when the only love he’d gotten was for something he wasn’t, when he’d hated himself so thoroughly for the things he couldn’t control...Abel had come sauntering in and been so unnecessarily kind. If Dorian had known trying to stop Alexius would have ended like this…

“I love you, Dorian. I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

Dorian's eyes stung. His vision clouded, and he hastily wiped away any forming tears. Abel’s hand met his, a contrast of grey skin with brown, and kept him from doing so any further.

“ _Amatus._ ” Dorian held it to his cheek. “I love you too. More than I could ever say.”

It would've been nice to be embraced at that moment, but Abel's hugging capabilities were rather lacking. Dorian had to settle for pressing his face into Abel's bosom and sniveling like a child.

"...Can I ask something?"

"If you must." Dorian's voice was muffled.

Abel's one arm kept him near, hand petting his hair.

"Cassandra...well, Varric said something interesting to Cassandra when the Exalted Council began."

"Oh? Don't tell me, they're finally an item?"

A snort. "Not yet. Give them time. But, uh...Varric told her that...I was planning on something." Abel shifted slightly. Dorian was content to remain face first in his impressive pectorals. "She thought I was going to...propose something."

Would it be stupid to say Dorian's heart leapt at the word? "Propose what?" he asked, his voice failing him.

"What do you think? She thought I was going to pop the question to you during the Council. Isn't that something? Varric could tell her the sky was red and she'd have to check to remind herself."

Dorian let out a held breath. "Something, alright."

"You know...it wasn't as if I wasn't thinking about that sort of thing anyway."

"You were?" How cruel! Was Abel _enjoying_ jerking him around like this? Dorian's throat was dry. He could hear Abel's heart thumping about as fast as his own.

"...Would you want to? Get married sometime, I mean. I don't know if Tevinter would recognize that kind of thing, but. It wouldn't hurt, would it? To have a ceremony, or something of that--"

Dorian pushed away, standing up. Abel’s eyes widened. The Tevinter kept his back to him, unsure of what to do with his hands, how to carry himself, how to breathe.

That's a little too good to be true, isn't it? After all he'd been through, after the neglect and cruelty, the hiding and sneaking around, hoping and praying and a damned blood magic ritual and _everything_ , every little instance that should have convinced Dorian this would never happen--

Maddening, he was! Abel was at his side, turning him to face him.

"Dorian?"

What do you say? What words do you weave? How do you play off your happiness as if it's nothing? How do you remain in control, charming, likable and funny? How does one ever manage to keep it all up when faced with someone so earnest?

How can you even be honest? Express how you feel? How was Dorian supposed to say in words how fantastic the idea is, how he never could've wanted more, that he'd love to, that he’s prayed for this? That the first night they slept together, Dorian had wanted more than simple skinship? That Dorian's loved him ever so hesitantly since they first kissed? The panic he felt watching that bridge crumble at Adamant, the times he knelt by Abel’s side to rouse him from unconsciousness amidst battle, dancing together at the Winter Palace-- that it was everything to him, that the past four years had been the happiest of his life?

And now he was _really_ crying! Abel wiped tears away as best he could, Dorian allowing it to be done. Perhaps he just didn't feel like drying his eyes.

"...Absolute idiot!" Dorian forced out.

"Excuse me?"

"You...you're an idiot, I..."

Dorian took hold of the larger man and brought their lips together. It was a challenge; their difference in height was frustrating, but the result did make it worth it. Lips, firm and familiar, a body he’d mapped out by touch, a thousand little things that comprised his feelings for the Herald of Andraste. Warm smiles, hearty laughter, acceptance, kindness, love! Roaming Thedas together, staves in hand. Sitting at camp together, talking. Killing Venatori together. Rather romantic, really.

They kissed for a while, locked together. Dorian tried (and failed) to cease his tears. Abel didn't mind.

"If we're getting married," Dorian finally managed to get out of his mouth, "You can't let Sera harass the guests. Any of her pranks and she's to be thrown out. And Cole has to wear something nice."

"Is that a yes, then?"

Dorian squeezed his eyes shut. "Do...you have to ask?"

"I want to hear you say it."

"But I...i-isn't it more..."

"Just be honest."

Dorian gulped down a breath, his face feeling rather wet. How terrible he must have looked at that moment! "...Yes! Are you happy, now? You've embarrassed me enough, you sadist!"

Words hardly meant, a smile spread across his face. Abel matched it, lovingly brushing his hand through Dorian's hair. "You don't need to play hard to get all the time."

"It's more fun that way."

"For whom, exactly?"

"Someone, I'm sure."

Abel laughed, eyes crinkling. "I think I prefer it when you speak what you feel."

"Well, I feel that you are terribly unfair, and I can't stand you!"

"Sit, then?"

"Perhaps I shall!"

Without missing a beat, Abel hooked his arm around Dorian and effortlessly tugged him back into bed. Dorian wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, making such a comment; but really, was it necessary for the Qunari to be this strong? He felt like a ragdoll! At the very least, this was a bit more of a proper embrace. Dorian wound his arms around him, kisses planted onto Abel’s lips, other such tender expressions of affection shared.

"I love you." Dorian whispered.

"Really? I wasn't sure."

Dorian swatted indignantly at Abel’s shoulder. "Oh, hush! I mean it! Don't make me take it back!"

"You wound me."

If this was what Dorian could have now-- if this love was his, if he could finally rest, if he needn't keep trying to become something he wasn't...

It'd be wonderful, he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so mad because i love all my dragon age husbands so much. iwant to die. trespasser killed me lmfao. ah man but yeah i love my inquisitor i wish i could post a pic of him on here but. he's so handsome! him and dorian are perfect. adaarian is everything i ever needed. i will personally battle iron bull for dorian's hand in marriage.  
> OH i almost forgot: this was betad by my normal beta (who doesn't have an account) and CherryMilkshake! go check her stuff out!!!


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